


Sam's Place

by somanyopentabs



Category: The Avengers
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M, Virgin Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 08:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1975857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyopentabs/pseuds/somanyopentabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's apartment is probably Steve's favorite place in the world right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sam's Place

"I don't know if you've realized, but you're not a bad-looking guy," Sam said, casually.

It wasn't the first time Sam had said something like that. Something that sounded like flirting, but Steve couldn't be sure. At any rate, he was occupied, opening a bag of pretzels. "Huh?"

"In case you wanted an objective opinion," Sam added.

"And you qualify as objective?"

"Yeah, man. Once you've seen someone in some raggedy-ass pajama pants, the hero worship is over."

Steve started to object, then thought better of it and stuffed a handful of pretzels in his mouth. He shrugged, because what else could he do?

Sam gave him a knowing look and plucked the snack out of Steve's hands without so much as a word.

Steve had taken them from his cupboard, after all.

They were sitting in Sam's kitchen. Steve, still in his jogging pants, had his elbows propped up on the table.

Sam's apartment was cozy. It seemed only natural that Steve would wind up there after running. It was convenient. And Sam was an actual human being who needed nutrients to survive, so there were always groceries at hand.

That was the great thing about Sam. He did regular errands like they were nothing. Steve considered the possibility, now and again, of asking Sam to take him shopping. Then again, he could just continue raiding Sam's kitchen.

***

"You look good, man."

Steve was modeling a suit in front of Sam. He desperately needed a suit that looked decent. One that wouldn't split at the seams if he accidentally flexed at a press conference. It only made sense to ask his friend if he looked nice, right? And if there was the added bonus of seeing if Sam liked the way he looked a little more than the way a friend would, well...that would be all for the better. Unfortunately, with Sam's habit of adding the word 'man' after everything, Steve was left just as conflicted.

"Really? I'm not so sure..." Steve frowned, mentally willing Sam to say something obvious enough that even he could be sure of his intentions.

"It looks great, okay? Now come on, we're gonna be late for the movie you wanted to see."

Seeing a movie with Sam? It was fantastic. The entire friendship was just fantastic. The only problem was that Steve spent half the movie wondering if Sam would object if he held his hand, and it was simply...frustrating not to know for certain.

***

Remember how normal and not weird it was for you to be over at Sam's place? Steve recalled as he knocked at the door.

It was a bit less conventional for him to turn up on Sam's doorstep at two in the morning.

"Please don't tell me that people are trying to kill you this time."

"Are you implying that I can't stay out of trouble?" Steve replied, with more confidence than he felt. 

It was all well and good to show up out of the blue when you were on the run. It was probably less acceptable to drop by without notice simply because of your massive crush on your maybe-straight friend.

"Come on. I have leftover pizza."

Oh, Sam. Bless him. He was always saying the right thing.

"Sorry for showing up like this," Steve said, even though he wasn't. He had followed Sam into the kitchen. Sam, half-asleep and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a soft-looking t-shirt, began to rummage around in the fridge.

"Yeah, yeah. You think you're real cute."

"Excuse me?" He pouted until Sam set down a plate full of pepperoni pizza and a glass of milk in front of him.

"Lucky for you, I happen to agree."

Why was he always stuffing his face when Sam started to say these things?

"Because we're friends?" Steve asked, after he'd swallowed.

"Sure."

Sam turned on the radio, then, saving Steve from his own awkwardness. There was a companionable buzz in the air that came from soft music played in the early hours of the morning.

"You want the couch?" Sam asked, later, after Steve had insisted on washing his own dishes and had set them in the strainer

"If you don't mind," Steve sighed, projecting dissatisfaction like an unhappy disco ball. The music was drifting from the kitchen to Sam's living room. The couch was comfortable enough. He'd slept on it before.

"Aw, come on. Are we really doing this now?"

Steve blinked and looked at Sam, who was definitely angled toward the bedroom.

"I kinda hope we are," Steve couldn't help but confirm. 

"You could have given me a warning, at least. I would have cleaned up or something."

Sam was tugging Steve into the bedroom anyway. There were a few articles of clothing scattered on the floor, but Steve couldn't see what the big deal was.

Sam kissed him, then and there, in the doorway. His lips were soft and the kiss was all too brief.

"No offense, but you should just get some sleep right now." Sam moved away from him and went over to his dresser.

Oh. Steve knew he wasn't looking his best. But, well, he couldn't help scowling a little when Sam threw a shirt and sleep shorts at him and sent him into the bathroom to change.

When he returned, the mess on the floor appeared to have been scooped up and shoved quickly into a laundry hamper. Sam was endearing and quirky in all the best ways. Steve wanted to kiss him again. But Sam...was on the other side of the room. And in that moment, the distance seemed nearly insurmountable.

"Did you want to...not at all?" Steve asked. It could complicate their friendship. Maybe Sam was okay with Steve hanging around his place and eating all his food without bringing sex into it.

Sex changed things. So he heard. Not that he would know.

At this point, he would really, really like to know.

"I'm not turning you down," Sam said. "I want to give you a chance to get some rest."

"Good. I mean, yeah."

"Get in bed, Steve."

Sam's bed was firm and perfect, and Steve almost asked where he got it, but then he shut himself up before he could make that inquiry. After all...it would only give him more of an excuse to be over here in Sam's space. Not that he needed an excuse to be here. Damn, his thoughts were a jumble around Sam.

"Go to sleep."

"Okay," Steve mumbled. "You're kinda bossy."

"You're kind of in my bed. I'm allowed to be. Now sleep."

***

Steve woke up with Sam's arm slung over him. He was warm, and when he moved a bit he realized he could feel Sam's erection against the back of his thigh.

"Breakfast first, or you want me to fuck you now?" Sam asked, pulling Steve back towards his chest.

Wow, Steve thought. That was some change from last night. Maybe all Sam needed was some sleep?

Sam's dick felt so nice pressed where it was. Being fucked sounded nice, too. 

"Do I get breakfast after?"

Sam's lips found the back of his neck and kissed him lightly there. "You already know I give you whatever you want. Do you really want me to fuck you?"

Steve had never thought about it that way before, but it was obvious that he always got his way around Sam. And not in a 'give Captain America whatever he wants' kind of way, that sometimes (embarrassingly) happened in restaurants and bars. It was something else entirely. Sam had already thrown down the hero worship shtick. Whatever was left, had to be genuine care for Steve.

Not that any of that had anything to do with his decision-making at the moment. Steve had wanted Sam for a long time now. He could only hope that the reality was half as good as his fantasies on the subject.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. You gotta know that, don't you?"

Sam knew him all too well, if the way he pressed his dick against Steve's ass was any indication. Steve got flipped over onto his belly, his borrowed shirt riding up while Sam pulled the shorts all the way off.

"I usually like to take my time," Sam was saying. "Not sure how long I'll be able to hold out with you. It's been a minute, you know?"

"Oh--okay," Steve gasped in response. Sam's fingers were exploring between his cheeks, and there was lube--where had he gotten the lube, and so quickly? Steve thanked his lucky stars that Sam was taking control of the whole situation. He spread his legs a little wider and focused on breathing. He'd read some articles online before now, but he hadn't gotten up the courage to try to finger himself, so it was a surprisingly new sensation when Sam breached his entrance for the first time.

"You like getting fingered? Want me to keep going?" Sam asked, working two fingers in and out of Steve's hole.

"Please?" The feeling was so intense already, Steve wondered how he was going to stand getting fucked without crying out in pleasure. Was that an okay thing? The guys on the internet videos (yes, okay, he watched them) grunted and groaned a lot. What did Sam expect of him?

When Sam reached for his dick and jerked him a couple times, Steve moaned and bit his lip. Had he ever been this hard before? His cock was leaking everywhere, and Sam continued pushing his fingers inside of him and touching such a sensitive place.

"You ready for my dick?" Sam asked, sounding calm. How could he be so calm? Steve felt like he was ready to pass out from bliss.

"Yeah. Yeah, I want it." Steve wanted that dick inside him more than anything right then.

He felt Sam slowing pulling his fingers out, and then the new sensation of being entered with the thick head of Sam's cock. Sam pressed in deep, and deeper still, drawing out sounds from Steve that he could only hope were appropriate for the situation.

"Are you good?" Sam asked. He rubbed a soothing hand over Steve's shoulders, giving him time to adjust to the new, bigger intrusion.

"Good," Steve echoed, and it was. And then Sam began to move, and thrust, and suddenly Steve's new favorite pastime was getting fucked up his ass. And then he didn't mean to ruin the moment, but his whole train of thought made him laugh.

"That's not the reaction I usually get," Sam commented, but he didn't slow his movements.

"Sorry," Steve said. "It's only...it's funny. Because I'm Captain America. And my favorite pastime isn't baseball."

"Clearly I need to be working you over much harder, if you're thinking about all that," Sam said, and then grabbed Steve's hips, thrusting again hard enough to make Steve see stars.

***

Later, after Steve came twice, he stripped the bedsheets and started them in the washing machine. Sam made him a huge breakfast while he took care of the laundry. He even gave Steve a pillow to sit on at the kitchen table, because he was thoughtful like that.


End file.
